The Protector

Chapter 8

Braigh and Articus were sneaking into their chambers quietly, when they heard a voice.

"So you have returned."

Desmond sat quietly on a chair in the large tower Articus shared with Braigh. His thin, but strong body bent loosely onto the back of the wooden chair. His piercing gray eyes caught their every move and his wide forehead was furrowed with lines. The white hair at the side of his head gleamed in the sunlight and he looked quite agitated.

"Have you been taking the Crown Prince in the path of your lowly ways?" He asked, sneering at Braigh.

"Your Crown Prince needs to learn to live a little. Perhaps if you had let him have a mind of his own, he'd know a little about the world." Replied Braigh.

"And what makes you think the King's bastard son can tell the Royal Advisor what to do?" He burst out at him.

Articus didn't know what to do. On one side, he was furious at Desmond for saying that about his brother, even though he knew he had said the same thing. On the other hand, he had always respected Desmond and had been fearful of him. He had mentored him since his mother's death and had taught him all that he knew.

Braigh looked at Articus with hopeful eyes as if he were expecting him to say something.

When Articus looked down, Braigh said, "I now see what my place is in this castle. Worry not, for you shall not be burdened by this bastard henceforth." Tears burned in his eyes.

And he turned and swiftly closed his chamber door.

***

Articus walked towards his sister's tower. He didn't know what to do. He always sat by her after such a thing. She somehow calmed him down.

As he was climbing up her stairs, he saw her walking down.

"Articus! We have to go to father! Quickly!" She said, in a raspy, unused voice.

Articus simply stood and stared. He could not believe his sister was speaking to him.

"Articus, are you not listening?" She said, shaking his shoulders.

Articus was pulled out of his trance as he followed her down the hallways.

"Myra?" He asked, in disbelief. "Myra!"

He was jubilant! His sister finally spoke to him!

As they neared the King's chambers, he saw a suspicious looking hooded figure leaving the door.

"Guards!" He yelled out loudly, running to follow it. He caught up and quickly threw himself on the hooded figure. But the figure wasn't struggling to get away anymore. He pulled the hood off and found that the man had foam coming out of his mouth. He had poisoned himself.

At the same time, he heard Myra scream out loudly.

He rushed into the chambers and found her standing near their father, who was lying limply on the bed. A trail of blood was running from his throat, down towards his sheets.

"Father!" He sobbed out loudly. He shook his father and felt for his pulse. The king had gone cold and his eyes were closed. Articus couldn't believe his eyes. His father couldn't have died. He could not lose his father.

"Father! Please, father! Wake up please." He cried.

He felt a hand at his shoulder. It was Desmond.

"Sire, you must be strong. The king is gone."

The finally of his words sunk in and Articus choked down a sob. He wished to hold his sister and share their grief. But he found that she was simply standing and staring out of the window.

He looked down, beyond the turrets carrying the maroon flags with two rams, at a man on a red stallion riding out of the castle gate.

It was Braigh.

"Catch the bastard! Put a price on his head! Ten thousand gold coins!" Desmond screamed at the guards.

"Tell the council. Prince Articus shall be named king!"

The guards covered the King's body with a sheet of clothing and carried it out.

Articus, Myra and Desmond were the only ones left.

"Sire, you shall be named king now. The council shall discuss the date of the coronation. Braigh shall be caught and hanged for his grave crime."

Articus could barely take in all of the proceedings of the day.

"What if it wasn't Braigh?" Was all he could choke out. He could not imagine his brother doing that to his father. He loved him tenderly.

Desmond put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sire, I have been with the Royal family since before your birth. I know of Braigh's nature, which stems from his poor maternal lineage. You must understand that everything I do is in the best interests of the Royal family. Your father entrusted your education and upbringing to me after the Queen's death." He said. "You are young, you have not seen the world as much as I have. I will guide you at every step during your rule. Have faith in my wisdom."

Articus was too tired and bewildered to do otherwise. He only wished to talk to Myra, now that she could speak. He wanted to know how she knew about father.

But as he approached Myra, he knew something was very wrong.

Myra was not crying. She was simply standing, looking out of the window.

"Myra?" He said, as he took hold of her hand. It was cold and stiff. He shook her, but she was as stiff as a doll. He saw that her face was turning blue.

"Desmond! Call the healers! Quick! Myra is having a fit!"

***

Myra had recovered, but refused to speak. She had quietly gone up to her towers with her maid and had locked herself in.

Articus was being taken to the Oracle, as it had awakened. The Oracle lived among the craigs a few hours ride from the castle. It had woken up for the first time after predicting his birth. It was known to wake and bring news of the future.

As Articus climbed up the stony path towards the Oracle, he could see a white light emerging from the caves.

An old, haggard, woman emerged from the cave.

"Welcome, King Articus. In good time as prophesied." She cackled.

Articus winced a little at being called king. Nonetheless, he walked towards the woman.

"I have come to pay my respects to the great Oracle, for I hear it has woken."

"Yes, yes. The Oracle has woken and has words for you and only you, your highness."

Articus looked at his guards and motioned at them to wait. It was now night time, yet the cave glowed like the sun.

As he walked in, he felt a deep warmth in his body, like a warm blanket. Or his mother's embrace.

When the light grew too bright, he shielded his eyes from it.

Fear not the light, young king. Fear the darkness about to befall you.

He looked around for the source of the sound, but could find none. As he walked further, a strong, invisible force kept him from moving forward.

He only saw a bright light which flickered and flashed as he heard the words.

The hound has caught the lamb
But the lamb shall rise
The hound will be brought to justice
By a fierce falcon with cyan eyes.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I appreciate that you took the time to go through this chapter. I would like to thank TurquoiseSakura for sticking with the story even though it's crude and a work in progress.